


The Game We Call Love

by I_have_a_Mycroft_of_my_very_own



Category: Good Omens (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Lucifer (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alexander is Arthur Pendragon's soul reincarnated, Asmodeus is too late to keep Magnus from erasing his memories, Because I have too many wips, Cat is Helga Hufflepuff, God and Goddess were actually Infinity Stones all Along, Linda Martin is Magnus' therapist, Magnus is Merlin, Magnus is Salazar Slytherin, Magnus is ancient, Magnus needs a break, Ragnor is Godric Gryffindor, Warlock children of Fallen Angels are actually Nephilim, all the wips in the whole world, so many wips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2020-07-23 16:43:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20011531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_have_a_Mycroft_of_my_very_own/pseuds/I_have_a_Mycroft_of_my_very_own
Summary: All my Malec wips that haven't been put into their own stories here on AO3





	1. Prodigal Son

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to run away with any of these ideas, just lemme know so I can link them (and read them :D)
> 
> This is a WIP drop, there's no guarantee any of these fics will ever be written in full... normally I'd wait for Evil Author Day but oh my god, every time I look at my Shadowhunters fic folder it's grown by more WIPS...
> 
> First story: Alec's soul is actually a really, really old soul that is reincarnated throughout the years, never able to rest. My original plan for this story was that Alec and Magnus' souls are actually the souls of Adam and Eve and this was their punishment, but IDK if I'm keeping with that... (they're also Arthur and Merlin)

The thing is, Merlin doesn’t know how old he is, doesn’t remember the world that he was born into, doesn’t remember the faces of those he knew in his childhood. He’s sure he’s even forgotten what his mother truly looked like, her face just something he has imagined when he tries to think of her, and he doesn’t think of her often. He remembers his stepfather, but he’s certain that has more do with the fact his stepfather was the first person he ever killed and you’re supposed to remember your first.

Everywhere he goes in his life, there is one soul that he finds over and over again. One soul that is the same soul, returned to life, endlessly. Of course, he doesn’t _really_ take much notice of them, outside the odd fling, until the 5th century, when he _accidentally_ helps them draw a sword from a stone and they’re pronounced the Once and Future King, which… _Mundanes._ Honestly.

Arthur is a great deal more exciting to talk to than Esther had been, but unlike Esther and all those before them, Arthur, bless him, can’t figure out why he keeps eyeing him up and down whenever opportunity is granted to him. It drives Merlin _mad._ Though, he supposes he can’t really blame the man, mundanes have become exceptionally small minded since the last time he bothered to take any interest in their affairs. Burn this witch at the stake and hang that one. This man slept with that man, so they must both die. It’s _exhausting_. But Arthur is... possibly worth the exhaustion.

Then dearest Guinevere enters the scene and Merlin gracefully bows out...

And pines from a distance.

* * *

Merlin wonders if he’s made a mistake, when it reaches the turn of the millennia and that beautiful, wonderful, vibrant soul hasn’t been reborn, and he’s _looked._ Well, he has better things to do, he eventually decides, when the world is _slowly_ beginning to become more civilized or, at the very least, less prone to savagery at the drop of any old hat.

He does miss the old, old days, when no one cared who slept with who, or who kept whose company. At the very least, he’s relieved he’ll never have to deal with the problem of leaving bastards in every port. Although, he is very generous whenever a young woman comes to him, claiming he’s the father of their child. He knows he isn’t, but what’s it really going to hurt him to set those children up for life?

* * *

Eventually, the name Merlin Emrys outlives its usefulness, as all the names before it had, so he teaches himself to answer to a new one, until eventually Magnus Bane rolls off the tongue like it was the name he was born with. It’s not, he doesn’t remember that name.

* * *

When it has been a thousand years since he last encountered that beautiful soul, he wonders if Arthur was the last. If whatever task, whatever duty he’d had here on this Earth was completed and his soul was free to rest. Magnus wonders what that feels like, _rest_. He’s been wearied of soul for centuries. He’s heard the mundanes talk of a ‘bone-weariness’ but his is soul-weariness. He sleeps but wakes just as tired, the years flow past him, sometimes he bothers to take note, but mostly he just exists outside of them. He just is, and maybe that's the saddest thing he has ever thought.

He thinks perhaps that’s why they have Nephilim once more amongst them. Though not as powerful as their predecessors, these Nephilim have all their same egos. He wonders if they exist now because those his age have become tired, so weary they can no longer see the point in battling back against the demons, can no longer see the point in protecting this world. Perhaps it is time for them to pass the torch, but it should have gone to the youngsters of their kind, rather than bring back the scourge that is the Nephilim. They were eradicated for a _reason_. 

Of course, not even the Nephilim managed to do a good enough job of things, since now vampires and werewolves walk the Earth, but perhaps it is time for a new Downworld.

* * *

It’s been so long, that when the soul finally comes back into his vicinity it takes him off guard, he doesn’t recognize them. Not until later, when he’s managed to have a conversation with the new Arthur, who is not an Arthur at all, but an Alexander. He’s a Shadowhunter, too, just to make things _exciting._ Maybe in the next run, he’ll be a warlock or a seelie, Magnus isn’t really sure how they’ve managed to dodge becoming an immortal for so long.

Arthur, who is actually Alexander, is truly Arthur reborn, the same foolish recklessness, the same overwhelming courage, the same bullheadedness, the same rigid adherence for rules that others have set, unless he realizes that they do not serve those that he cares for, then he is the first in line to break them. Magnus wishes, for the first time, he’d paid more attention to the earlier lives, wants to know if the soul has always been this way. He thinks that it probably has.

Like Arthur before him, Alexander seems incapable of acknowledging what he feels for Magnus. Magnus decides he’s not going to suffer that again, going through it with Arthur was enough. He decides he will bow out, gracefully, and let Lydia have what she has claimed as her own, even if only for duty. He did it for Guinevere, for all the good that came of it, he can do it for Lydia.

Then stupid, dumb, Ragnor gets himself killed, _again,_ and even though Magnus _knows_ the idiot will be back in a year or two, he still conjures up his ghost. Still listens to what his ghost has to tell him, because Ragnor really has always had the best advice, even if Magnus tends not to abide by it.

So, he bursts into the wedding and hopes that he’s not making the worst mistake of the century. Lydia, unlike sweet Guin before her, gives Alexander up without a fight, absolves him of any duty to her and encourages him forward. Magnus is absolutely certain the heart is not meant to swell until it feels like it might burst, but that’s what happens when Alexander finally kisses him.

He feels like he has come home and he doesn’t know why.

* * *

He wonders at the power behind the Agony Rune, a rune so strong it can bring up memories that he has long forgotten. He is older than the entire Nephilim order, lived during the period when the original Nephilim walked the Earth, so how much power must that rune have to bring up memories so old? He doesn’t know if he really wants an answer.


	2. To Infinity and Beyond...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are Eight Infinity Stones, Nature and Destruction got themselves hidden away before the rest of the Universe discovered their siblings...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this one is my favourite, but it's actually killing me with the world building, I keep having to stop and check that things make sense and then fix any plot holes I keep writing myself into... Writing is hard.

It’s been five years since the invader from the stars destroyed their lives. Five years since he watched his husband and his son turn to ashes before his eyes. He’d always feared he’d have to watch Raphael die one day, always had nightmares of watching his son turn to dust. He always feared that he’d have to watch Alec die, always knew that it would happen one day and so his dreams were filled with ways his husband could die. But reality was so much worse than any of his nightmares could ever have been.

There was an angel, once, who stood between them and threats that would come from the stars, but Magnus wonders what happened to them, but only for a second, because he realizes the stupidity of that. An angel tasked with watching the stars, with looking out and seeing the other worlds, the worlds their Father had no hand in creating. Magnus knows what it is to look into the stars and to question, and questioning is not something someone Upstairs should be doing. There was an angel, once, who stood between them and threats that would come from the stars, but he fell, long ago.

* * *

Five years since he watched his life turn to ashes in front of his eyes and he does his absolute best to discover what caused it, when he does, he thinks he might just scream at the stupidity of the entire thing. Whoever was responsible for raising Thanos, raised a fucking idiot who is bad at math, common decency, and common sense. If you don’t have enough resources to go around and solve this problem by halving _all_ the resources and the people who need them, you haven’t solved the problem, you’ve just made it worse in an entirely different way.

Now their world is dying, Magnus imagines thousands of worlds out there are dying and they’re the only ones who can fix it. He’d heard from eavesdropping on the so-called Avengers that the Stones are destroyed, but that’s ridiculous for a number of reasons he cannot even begin to describe, so he doesn’t bother. What’s equally ridiculous is the Avenger’s plan to fix things, if you are going to play with time, at least know what you’re doing. None of these people know what they are doing, they are children playing with their father's gun, it's ridiculous.

Magnus doesn’t bother with any of that, they’ve already exhausted all of the time rituals available to them and if time were the fix, they’d have solved this by now. Instead, he gathers the others like him, the other Children of Angels, fallen or otherwise, the children who have the blood of angels in their bodies, and therefore have the blood of God, Goddess, and Spirit in them, or as they were once respectively known, Nature, Destruction, and Soul.

Magnus already knows that their entire universe believes there to be only _six_ infinity stones, but there are _eight._ The secret two had broken away and hidden long before any knowledge of them could be recorded. Life and Death. They’d landed together on the dead rock that would become Earth across the long years that they fought against the influence of the other. In time, they shaped bodies to house them, and over the years came to a rocky truce that eventually evolved into a friendship, that became… something more.

At an unrecorded time, the Soul Stone had fallen to the Earth, and encountered Nature and Destruction. Together, they three produced the angels, and in time, created all the living things that inhabited the Earth. Then, when they grew bored, they left the Earth to journey through the universe together, leaving their children and their creations behind to fend for themselves, as they explored the universe, experimenting with life across the stars. Until, one day, Soul remained behind, rarely to ever venture forth into the world again.

* * *

Through the Nephilim and the children of the fallen angels runs the power and blood of three of the Infinity Stones. The magic they all carry has the potential to give life or to destroy it. Which is why, at first, they didn’t understand why they couldn’t bring the Vanished back, even when they had combined their magics together. Until they’d gone to Edom and the Fallen had explained that the Vanished were not dead, they were merely trapped in the Soul Stone, else they would have come to Hell or Heaven, or Purgatory. The Fallen confirm they’ve even checked Limbo and there are no Vanished there. Without the physical presence of the Soul Stone, and time to break through its magic, they cannot free the Vanished.

So, Magnus determines, their only option is the Infinity Stones. He knows the Avengers think they’re destroyed, but he doesn’t believe that for a single second. Thanos used the Infinity Stones to destroy the Infinity Stones, but Destruction was not present, so it isn’t possible. Just as it isn’t possible for the Vanished to be dead, because Destruction was not present for the snap. Thanos had a lot of power at his hands, certainly, control over time, space, reality, power, the mind, and the soul, but he did not have the power over life and death. Just as the Vanished became trapped in the Soul Stone, Magnus assumes the stones have become trapped there, too, and the Reality Stone warped Thanos’ perception. Therefore, their own Infinity Stones are lost to them, so it galls him that he has to rely on the Avenger’s ridiculous plan working. Which means, the Children must then ensure the Avengers don’t ruin the future by being too reckless, a hard ask.

The Stones will be returned from the moments they were taken and later, the Children will return to those moments and ensure no one remembers the Avengers being there at all, if they were seen and recognized. Time is fragile, but easily mended, which is a saving grace, or they’d all be screwed.

So, they wait.

* * *

When reports come in that the Vanished have returned, Magnus’ heart swells with excitement and relief and the desire to track his husband and son down and _never_ let them go. But the announcement is immediately followed by the information that the Avengers Compound has been bombed and that Thanos is here. Magnus, of course, is furious, the Avengers had _one_ job and they couldn’t even do that and now instead of finding his husband and son, he has to go and protect his world, _again._

He steps out of his portal into dirt and rubble and has to take a moment to just breathe so his magic doesn’t overwhelm him, the way it has started to over the last five years when his emotions have run too hot. The power of an Infinity Stone is immense and not something to be trifled with, and he carries the power of three of them.

Finding Thanos amongst the rubble is easy, and it would be oh, so easy to just snap his fingers and end the pathetic excuse for a sentient being, but that would destroy their timeline in ways Magnus doesn’t want to comprehend. This is not _their_ Thanos, this has to be a Thanos from their past, which means, he has to remain alive to eventually become the Thanos that ruins all of their lives.

So, Magnus waits, shrouds himself in glamours to make it seem like he is not there and finds a place to sit and observe, notes when the other Children appear beside him and shroud themselves from sight. They may not have the power of the Reality Stone, but they do not need it, their magic compensates well enough without it.

“What’s the plan?" Andrew queries from beside him, his runes glowing vibrant golden against the white of his skin. Meliorn huffs on his other side and stamps his spear on the ground in impatience.

“We’re going to wait for the Infinity Gauntlet to be in play, then we’re going to steal it. Meliorn, you’ll wear the gauntlet, Andrew and I will offset its power. All three of us carry the blood of three Infinity Stones, but I don’t want to risk you being overwhelmed, even if you are purely created from the stones power.” Magnus explains to the Seelie King who nods back at him, before turning to the battle raging before them. There is so much work they’re going to have to do to fix this, unless Meliorn is careful in his intentions with his Snap.


	3. Talking Helps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Linda happens to be the only therapist of the supernatural world, and she frequently questions her life choices 'Lucifer... STOP TELLING PEOPLE TO COME AND SEE ME!'

Alec doesn’t really know what the connection is, but every time Magnus goes to Los Angeles, even if he’s only gone for a few hours, he comes home absolutely drunk out of his mind, muttering about the devil, Alec’s not sure what the connection is there either.

“Hey Cat?” he asks one day, when Magnus has stumbled past them grumbling a greeting and then disappearing to the Master Bedroom. “What’s in LA?” He queries, turning back to the card game with Cat and Madzie.

“Hmm? Oh, Lucifer.” Cat answers, absently, shifting her cards around.

“Excuse me?”

“Lucifer’s been hanging out in LA for a few years now, Alec, chill.” Cat tells him, rolling her eyes.

“Lucifer is _here,_ on _Earth?”_ Alec demands, putting down his cards, only to swiftly pick them up again when he sees the pout forming on Madzie’s face.

“Relax, Alec. The Almighty themselves let him out of Hell, you think your Clave has more authority than God?” Cat queries, raising an amused eyebrow at him, laughing when Alec huffs.

“Why would He let Lucifer out?” he queries causing Cat to snort.

“ _She_ does as she pleases.” Cat responds, with a vicious smirk.

“God’s a woman?”

“God is god, darling. God is everything and anything God wishes to be.”

* * *

“So, when were you going to tell me that Lucifer was here?” Alec queries the next morning over breakfast, when Magnus is glaring at his pancakes and Alec is slightly worried that they’ll burst into flames.

“You didn’t know?” Magnus asks, eyes wide, a spark of awareness suddenly in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “I assumed you would know, well, if not you, the Institute in LA at least.”

“But… I’m High Inquisitor, they’d have told me.” Alec points out, frowning.

“So, then the LA office doesn’t know and they don’t know about Amenadiel or Maze then, either.” Magnus says, sounding more amused than anything else. “Do you know about Aziraphale and Crowley?”

“Who?”

“Oh my-“ Magnus starts to exclaim, before bursting into laughter. “What about Castiel?”

“The Angel of Thursday?” Alec asks, frowning when Magnus starts giggling uncontrollably. “Magnus!”

“Sorry, it’s just… it’s just so funny. Sorry.” Magnus exclaims, through wheezing breaths, unable to stop laughing. Alec huffs and doesn’t get any further explanation out of him after that.

* * *

It takes a few months before Alec ends up in LA, alongside Magnus, of course. What he doesn’t understand is how they ended up in another night club, considering Magnus rarely _ever_ agrees to go to someone else’s club when his is readily available.

“So, why are we here?” Alec queries, looking around them and frowning, he’s never really been one for the party scene, his husband on the other hand? Magnus can blend in with any crowd, even when he’s the most vibrant person in the room.

“This is Lux, Lucifer’s tribute to sex, drugs, and… party music.” Magnus replies, a beautiful smile on his face. “I still maintain he took the idea from me.”

“Probably true.” The bartender advises, putting their drinks down in front of them and smirking at Magnus. “He’ll never admit it though.” She says, causing Magnus to laugh.

“That sounds like Lucifer.” He admits, running his finger around the rim of his martini glass. “Where is he?”

“He is currently at his therapy session with the lovely Linda.” She replies, climbing up onto the bar and dropping down the other side, with Magnus leaning out of her way. “Aren’t you rostered to see her?”

“Yep! Next Friday!” Magnus agrees, downing his drink, she snorts and rolls her eyes.

“Should probably get her a therapist of her own, else she is going to snap!”

“Isn’t that what Amenadiel is for?”

“Oh, so I’m just stress relief now?” an unfamiliar man asks, coming to stand at the bar on Alec’s other side.

“Yes.”

“You have a therapist?” Alec blurts out, before the two unfamiliar people can start bickering.

“I thought I mentioned it?” Magnus answers, frowning. “Didn’t I?”

"No. I’m sure I’d have remembered if you mentioned that.”

“Huh. Well, her name is Linda and she’s truly a gift from the heavens... maybe not specifically God..." 


	4. Give Me A Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus has actually been hanging on by a thread pretty much the entirety of the show... the thread finally snaps.

Three weeks after the wedding, when they return from honeymoon, the day Ragnor walks back into Magnus’ life is also the day Alec comes home from the Institute to find his husband sobbing on the floor, sopping up spilled Seelie wine, with a towel that’s already so soaked through with wine that he’s just spreading it around.

“Magnus?” Alec calls hesitantly, standing a little away from his husband and watching with something akin to concern and terror both. “Darling?” He jumps a little when Magnus suddenly throws the towel across the room and shoots a fireball after it, Alec’s vaguely impressed that even drunk out of his mind, his husband’s aim is still apparently true, as he looks to watch the towel burn to ashes almost instantly. When he turns back, he finds his husband has buried his face into his hands and his whole body is wracked with sobs. “Baby, what is wrong?” Alec exclaims, finally crossing to his side and sinking down to his knees, not concerning himself at all with the wine he can feel soaking into his pants as he reaches out and wraps his arm around his husband, pulling him against him.

“I’m just having a moment.” Magnus says, his voice choked and stuffy sounding, Alec gives a small disbelieving snort.

“I can see that, babe. What happened?” he questions, noting the empty bottles dotted around the room. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Ragnor’s alive.” Magnus mumbles, the words tripping their way over his lips. “I don’t remember the last time I was this drunk!!” he exclaims, as if it is some achievement, before he breaks into helpless giggles.

“Darling, I love you, but I thought you weren’t drinking anymore?”

“Ragnor’s alive!” Magnus repeats, as if that’s the most self-explanatory thing in the world.

“This doesn’t seem like happy drinking.” Alec points out, regretting it almost immediately when his husband’s breath hitches. “Darling?” he asks, as Magnus covers his face with his hand and breathes deeply, clearly trying not to start crying again, but also just as obviously losing that battle until he’s suddenly clinging to Alec, his face buried in Alec’s chest, crying heart wrenching sobs. Alec doesn’t really know what to say, so he holds Magnus close, lets him cry himself out, until the warlock falls asleep against him. “Ah, love.” Alec whispers as he carries Magnus off to bed, stripping him out of his wine stained clothes and changing him into his silken pyjamas and tucking him into bed.

In the morning he swears he will get an explanation.

* * *

When he wakes up, he finds the bed is empty and the sun has only just made itself known in the sky. He frowns at the star and heads out to find his husband, who has apparently cocooned himself in the apothecary. Alec quietly stands in the doorway, folds his arms over his chest and watches his husband angrily brew the hangover cure.

“Stop staring at me.” His husband mutters, without looking at him. Alec shrugs and rolls his eyes.

“Are you awake enough yet to tell me why you got yourself so trashed last night? Or should I wait until you’re done?” he asks, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. His husband sighs heavily, throwing his head back to look up towards the ceiling, as if for guidance. “Magnus?”

“I truly am thankful for you everyday of my life, Alec. But I need a goddamn break. I need everything to just slow down for at least a couple of months. I need there to be no new world ending problems. I need there to be no surprises. I need a break.” Magnus finally admits, turning his attention back to the potion, taking it off the heat and scooping it into phials.

“We just got back from honeymoon.” Alec points out, floundering, but his husband is already shaking his head.

“Yeah, we came back from honeymoon to find out that Clary has absolutely no memory of any of us and instead of trying to fix that, our friends all decided that she just wasn’t worth it or something. I don’t know. I don’t understand." Magnus exclaims, throwing his hands in the air and shaking his head. "Then my oldest and dearest friend, who _died in my arms, s_ hows up like it never happened.”

“Well, that’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Alec asks, absolutely out of his depth here, isn’t the miraculous return of a dead friend something to be celebrated? “And as for Clary, no one wants to upset the angels.”

“Fuck the angels!” Magnus snaps, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes, before pressing his hand against his forehead and breathing deeply. “The moment I figure out how to undo what they’ve done, I will. I’m stronger than they are, I’ll fix everything they’ve broken.”

“What?” Alec exclaims, his brow furrowing. “Magnus, what the hell are you talking about?”

“I figured out why my father wanted my magic.” His husband explains, a not so pleasant smile on his face, before he downs one of the potions and lets out a frozen breath, the pinching around his eyes smoothing out as the potion takes effect. “I’m stronger than he is. True Nephilim were stronger than their angelic parents. I’m stronger than mine. I’ll figure out exactly what the angels did to Clary and I’ll fix it, even if I have to destroy the lot of the sorry bastards. As for Ragnor… the bastard let me think he was dead.”

“But he’s alive, that’s a good thing.”

“Ragnor’s death was the start of my life spiraling so far out of my control, I didn’t think I’d ever get it back.” Magnus points out, then sighs when Alec actually feels his heart break a little in his chest. “I told you, I’m thankful for you every day of my life, Alec. But the last five months have been the most stressful, ridiculous time of my entire life and I’m falling apart and it all began with the death of my best friend. I can’t even really hate him for faking his death, because without it, I wouldn’t have chased you down the aisle. You made all of it worth it, but by Lucifer, Alec, I am at the end of my rope.”

“I don’t understand.”

“In the span of the last four months, two of my best friends have died only to miraculously be returned to me after I’ve already mourned them, one of them I mourned twice. I’ve been tortured and forced to relive my worst memories over and over again, my boyfriend nearly killed me, then later I got to watch him throw himself off my roof.” Magnus laughs, the sound is so broken it hurts Alec just to hear it. “I lost two of my best friends, then I lost my job and my power, then I lost my magic, and then I lost my home, then I lost my boyfriend. Once upon a time, that would have sent me running for the nearest bridge. To this day I don’t know why it didn’t. I’ve gone to hell twice in five months when before I’d only visited maybe once in my entire life. I banished my own father to Limbo for eternity. The woman I have come to consider a little sister lost her memories of me and all of our friends at _my_ wedding and _no-one. Fucking. Cares!_ ”

“Magnus-“ Alec tries to interrupt, but he really doesn’t know what to say, what are you supposed to say to that?

“I can’t do this anymore, Alec. I need a fucking break. I don’t care if the world is going to end tomorrow. I’m done. The world can end. I don’t care.” Magnus says, sucking in a breath even as tears spring up in his eyes, a hysteric little giggle bubbling up in his throat. “I read this quote once, ‘it’s healthy to say uncle when your bone’s about to break’. Well my bones are about to shatter into a million pieces!” Magnus yells, throwing his hands up in defeat, Alec isn’t sure he’s ever seen Magnus this distraught, not even when his husband cried himself to sleep in his arms on the balcony that night Alec had planned to propose.

“Okay. Okay.” Alec exclaims, realizing belatedly that his hands are out in surrender, like he’s trying to calm a spooked child. “So, we take a break. I’ve got more leave saved up than I know what to do with and the Clave loves me right now so… so we go on holiday. Anywhere, everywhere you want to go. We… we can turn our phones off, tell everyone to only contact us if they’re dying. Just… whatever you want, Magnus.”

“I’m sorry.” Magnus says, shoulder’s slumping, Alec can’t help the frown he feels pulling at his face.

“Hey, what are you apologizing for? Everyone needs a break every now and then.” Alec promises, sighing heavily and shaking his head. “It’s not like we don’t deserve it, with everything that has been happening.”

“You nearly died.” Magnus points out, Alec snorts and rolls his eyes.

“So did you.” He points out, causing his husband to laugh.

“So did everyone.” His husband corrects and Alec nods, a sad little smile on his lips, he knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t help but wonder if maybe things will calm down now with Clary lost to them. It seems every almost-apocalypse they’ve had has somehow related to her. He knows that’s unfair, but it’s something he can’t help but feel, and will never admit to, especially not to Magnus.

“Clary’d say we need therapy.” He points out, his thoughts fully drifting to their friend, and wondering what she’s up to. Whether she even… has anywhere to stay. Her mother died, the circumstances around that can’t really be explained in the mundane world, their home was kind of a write off, her oldest and dearest friend is lost to her, as are his family. Alec’s breath stutters in his throat as he realizes for the first time that Clary truly has nothing without them. “We have to find her.”

“I have.” Magnus admits, a bitter little smile on his face. “She’s… as well as can be, all things considered. She’ll keep, but I’m never going to stop trying to fix what the angels broke, Alec, I promise you that.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to. If it was Izzy…” he says, trailing off and shaking his head. “When we get back, we’ll help her.”

“Thanks.” Magnus says, quietly frowning at him. “I thought… none of you are… it’s horrible to say, but none of you seem to really care that she’s gone.”

“It’s not that. We just… didn’t think we could change anything and didn’t want to annoy the angels more by trying.”


	5. Miracles Can Be Known To Happen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good Omens and Shadowhunters exist in the same universe, however the Good Omens apocalypse happens in 2016, instead of 2019 and Crowley and Aziraphale are kind of hiding from their former employers, but they're not doing a too great a job at it...

Magnus wanders aimlessly along the streets he’s come to know like the back of his hand. No destination in mind, not really, it’s… everywhere he looks a memory is lurking, ready to leap out at him and make him think of…

Someone who shall be consigned to the darkness of time, with all the rest.

He’s learned his lesson, over and over and yet he still makes the same, stupid decisions. Love is nothing but heartbreak and pain, the kind of pain that festers and leaves a mark that never heals.

He was an idiot to think this time would be any different, especially since this time he chose… well his choices have always left him wanting in the end, haven’t they?

“Magnus?” he jumps at the voice, and turns to stare at someone he hadn’t, honestly, expected to see for a long time.

“Azzy?” he mumbles, confused and more than a little lightheaded. How long _has_ he been walking?

“Oh, my dear, you look a mess! What’s happened?” Aziraphale exclaims, crossing to his side, he looks as put together as he always has.

“I lost my magic in a deal with my father, and I lost my home in a deal with the warlock who replaced me as High Warlock of Brooklyn… and my boyfriend just broke up with me.” Magnus replies, not sure why he does it, not sure why he lets Aziraphale wrap him up in a hug, but he _does._ Sinks into it like he’s a drowning man and Aziraphale is his life ring.

“Oh dear, you’re not having a very good time of things are you, darling?” Aziraphale asks, before frowning. “Well, come along, then. I’ll put you up for a bit.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in London? Your bookshop?” Magnus answers, even as he lets Aziraphale lead him away, one arm wrapped around his shoulders.

“Oh, I do love the bookshop, but I’m taking a bit of a break.” Aziraphale replies, leading Magnus along. Magnus doesn’t honestly pay much attention to where they are or even where they end up, he knows that at some point Azzy leads him inside out of the cold, but Magnus couldn’t tell you what the angel’s home looks like on the outside, he barely takes not of the inside as Aziraphale leads him off to a bedroom and all but pushes him down onto the bed. “You’re a bit in shock, aren’t you?”

“I think so.” Magnus mumbles in reply, but hums. “I’ll be fine after I sleep.”

“Right then. If I’m not around when you wake up, make yourself at home, dearest.” Azzy promises, tucking him in and leaving the room, closing the door behind him. Magnus sighs into the darkness and closes his eyes and suddenly knows no more.

* * *

Magnus wakes to the sound of quiet, muffled voices and he lets out a little sigh, rolling over in bed to complain about his guests, before he suddenly remembers that he has no home, that he is in fact, the guest. He huffs and sits up, listening closer to the voices.

“Well, what was I supposed to do, Crowley? Just leave him to wander the streets? He’s a child!” Aziraphale’s voice exclaims, Magnus makes a face at being called a child, he hasn’t been a child for centuries, thank you very much.

“He’s eight hundred years old! Also, might I remind you that his _father_ is a _prince of hell._ We’re trying to avoid them at the moment, or don’t you recall, angel?” Crowley’s voice retorts, and Magnus smiles at the sound of it.

“You don’t have to remind me! I might not be on active duty anymore, but I’m _still_ an angel! I’m not going to leave him on the streets when I can easily offer him shelter! He has no magic, Crowley!”

“Yes, and how fucking _stupid_ was that? Nephilim are more powerful than their parents by half, they always have been! I don’t want to know what his father is getting up to with his son’s power added to his own, Aziraphale. I really don’t.” Magnus frowns and looks down at his hands. _Nephilim?_

“Well, he doesn’t know that he’s Nephilim now, does he? None of them do!”

“And whose fault is that?”

“We all agreed it was for the best, and it ended the war… for a time. Now Adam has given us all yet more time to figure something out.”

“Not if those Morgenstern children have anything to say about it!”

“Yes, well, I hope to avert their apocalypse, as well. It’s only been a few months since the last one, are we not due for some peace?”

Magnus tires of eavesdropping and quietly gets out of bed, he goes to magic himself into fresh clothing before he sucks in a breath and closes his eyes, remembering he no longer _has_ magic. So, instead, he continues to breathe deeply as he opens his eyes and tries to make himself as presentable as possible, before he steps out into the living room. He finds Crowley sprawled across an armchair, and Aziraphale sitting primly on the couch. Both of them turn to look at him as he enters the room, and he feels something in his heart when Crowley’s snake eyes land on him, a fond smile forming on his face.

“You really don’t have any magic, do you?” Crowley questions, when Magnus’ warlock mark doesn’t reveal itself, the way it always has whenever he looks at Crowley’s demon mark. Magnus shrugs his shoulders and goes to sit down on the couch, on the other end from Azzy. “Alright, angel, do your miracle.”

“But I-I _can’t_.” Azzy exclaims, looking between Magnus and Crowley with a great deal of anxiety.

“Angel, think about it this way. If we leave his father with his magic, he’ll become a threat to everything we’re working towards. If you give him back his magic, at least some of his father’s plans are thwarted. Think of it as restoring balance, especially since we can’t have the Nephilim getting worried over their powers again.” Crowley points out, rolling his head along the back of the armchair to look at Azzy.

“They don’t even remember the scope of their powers.” Aziraphale replies, crossing his arms over his chest before sighing heavily and looking heavenward.

“Don’t you go praying now, we’re trying to keep their attention away from us.” Crowley grumbles, but Azzy just ignores him, before finally turning to Magnus with a frown on his face. He sighs again and snaps his fingers and Magnus gasps as he suddenly feels his magic rushing back into him.

“There, now don’t go giving that away again, dearest.” Aziraphale tells him, a stern look on his face, that causes a fond smile to form on Magnus’ lips.

“I won’t.” he promises, because he definitely will _not._ Absolutely _nothing_ is worth the loss of his powers. Nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Asmodeus hadn't freed himself yet, which is why he hadn't given Magnus' magic back. Alec made his deal for nothing, but without it, Magnus wouldn't have found his way to Azzy so...


	6. I'll Bleed Out For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group go for a night out in the Mundane world and tragedy strikes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is an old one, I think I started writing it about a day or two before the shootings down in Christchurch and almost immediately lost any interest in continuing it.
> 
> Trigger Warning: Main character gets shot, mentions of suicide
> 
> Title is from Bleeding Out by Imagine Dragons

The thing about being an immortal, dying isn’t something you think about. But that’s not strictly true. You think about death often, as often as breathing. But you think about other people dying, never you. You’re immortal, why would you ever think of your own death? Why would you contemplate it?

But even that’s not true, because he’s thought about it before, too. Thought about being the enforcer of his own demise. That’s it, though, isn’t it? As an immortal, whenever he’s thought of his own death, it came at his own hands. The result of careful planning that he undertook. The consequence of a direct action that he took under his own power.

This isn’t that, though.

This isn’t his own terms.

He didn’t plan this.

He didn’t plan any of it.

* * *

“Magnus, Magnus, you’re okay. You’ll be okay.” The frantic voice that sounds in his ears is familiar, but he can’t place it, can barely understand the words.

He feels like he’s floating on air and being crushed beneath the weight of the Earth all at the same time. Feels so incredibly hot, and so unbelievably cold. He lets out a laugh but it comes out more like a sob, and he wants to scream, doesn’t know if he can stop it.

“Shh, Magnus, save you breath. You’ll be alright. Alec!”

“Alexander?” he mumbles, the word sparking _something_ in his mind, but he’s not sure what, can’t remember what. Something important, all encompassing, that he. Cannot. Recall.

“Magnus? Oh my god.” Someone falls to their knees beside him, their hands all over him, and their face appearing in his blurry vision, in and out as the lights flash, and he smiles.

“Hey.” He murmurs, reaching up to caress their face, more on instinct than anything, still doesn’t truly know this person he’s seeing.

“Hey, you. I thought we agreed you weren’t going to get beaten up anymore.” They say, their face _crumpling,_ their lips trembling, and their eyes clouding with tears _,_ it makes him feel all sorts of funny things he can’t name.

“Did we?” he asks, tries to remember that conversation, but can barely remember to breathe. In, out, as the lights flicker above him.

“Yeah. You’re a badass, you’re not going to let anyone beat you down anymore.” They tell him, and he hums, closing his eyes. “Hey, hey, no, look at me.” They demand, but it comes out more a plea, he takes a tired breath in and forces his eyes open.

“I’m scared.” He whispers, sucking in a pained breath. “I don’t want to die.” He mumbles, centuries of memories flickering before his eyes, too quick for him to ponder on any of them.

“You’re not going to die, you’re going to be fine. You have to be fine.” They tell him before turning away, towards the person from before, but he can’t see them anymore. “Where is Catarina?”

“I couldn’t reach her. She wouldn’t be able to portal in here anyway, with the mundanes. I called an ambulance, Ale, but they're probably already on their way, with the shooting.”

“Alec?” he mumbles, making a guess, and the person above him turns back to him in an instant. “I love you.” He’s sure it is love that he feels, even if he can’t place anything else. He loves this man.

“I love you, Magnus. Just stay with me, okay? You just have to stay with me. Help will be here soon.”

“Do you think warlocks go to heaven when they die?” he asks, more to himself than to either of his companions. He knows the answer, or he did, once, can’t seem to recall. He wonders if his sudden memory problems are the result of death’s quickly approaching embrace, or that fact he has too many memories for a mind now as mundane as his own, or if he took a hit to the back of the head as he fell, or whether it’s a combination of all three.

“You’re not going to die!” The person hovering above him snaps at him, he’s sure they’re Alec, more certain of it than he is about anything else.

“I-I love you.” He says again, because he does, or at least, he thinks that feeling in his chest that’s not pain is love. That floating, happy feeling when he looks at them, tries to remember them. That feeling that’s keeping his fear at bay.

“Magnus!” He closes his eyes, has no strength left to open them again.

“Sorry.” He mumbles, feels the cold seeping further and further in, the fog growing in his mind, he can’t help but give into it, the sound of their voice screaming his name slowly fades away to nothing as the lights above him flicker behind his closed eyes, once, twice...

_Nothing._

* * *

The thing about being mortal, any near-death experience is just one to many, is just too close for any sort of comfort. The thing about being mortal, is that death isn’t some great terror looming ahead of you, it’s just a fate you know eventually you’ll meet. When you’re mortal, you contemplate death, the death of those around you, and your own death. You argue over which death you think would be the most peaceful, which death you’d want to experience yourself. Because you know, deep down inside you, that no matter what you do, eventually you’ll die, so there’s no use fearing it. No use waking up in the morning and spending the day looking over your shoulder, searching for the thing that will be your end.

That doesn’t mean you stop fighting it. Doesn’t mean you just give up.

When death is the inevitable conclusion to your time on Earth, you just live, for as long as you can. As mortals, as a group, you become better at ensuring others live on, too, for as long as they can, for as long as you can give them. For as long as humanely possible, and anything is possible.

* * *

Consciousness returns to him slowly, as he drifts slowly back into awareness, before suddenly jolting awake at the sudden pain that makes itself known.

“Ow.” He moans, clenching his eyes shut tight and trying to move, to bring his hand up to his chest, only for gentle hands to hold him still.

“Hey, don’t try to move. You’ll be in a lot of pain.”

“Alexander.” He breathes, fighting through the pain as the hands move, one grabbing hold of his own and holding tight. “Wha-what happened?” he asks, gritting his teeth.

“Well, we all went out for a night on the town, some guy started shooting up the place and you got hit trying to protect this young girl.” Alec tells him, his hand clenching in Magnus’.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Clary saved your life.” Alec says, with a sigh. “We couldn’t get a hold of Cat, so Clary called an ambulance. Speaking of Clary, Clary said something about pain medication when you woke up.” Alec states, Magnus opens his eyes and frowns at him, watching as Alec fiddles around with the multitude of cords hanging around Magnus. “Here we go!” Alec exclaims, then just as Magnus is about to ask what he’s doing, when suddenly the pain starts to fade away and he lets out a relieved sigh.

“Thanks. Where’s Clary?” He asks, turns his head when Alec points across the room, finds Clary sleeping in her own bed. “What happened?”

“You lost a lot of blood, and we didn’t know your blood type. Clary’s a universal donor so, she donated.” Alec explains, shrugging his shoulders. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

“Never.” Magnus murmurs, closing his eyes again. “Next time, we go to Pandemonium, at least we won’t get shot there.” He says, ignoring the fact that the reason they didn’t go to Pandemonium in the first place is because everyone in the Shadow World keeps staring at him, the former high warlock who is suddenly even less powerful than an ifrit.

“Yeah, agreed.” Alec falls quiet for a few moments before sighing heavily. “How’s the pain?”

“Fine.” Magnus answers, opening his eyes again to look at Alec, contemplatively. “Why?”

“Well, this bed’s pretty small, but I kind of want to hold my boyfriend.”

“Oh.” Magnus exclaims, before a smile spreads across his face and he pats the bed. “Come on, then, get in before a nurse comes to check on me.” Alec grins, and gamely climbs into the bed on Magnus’ good side, careful not to jostle Magnus’ too much. He snuggles in against the warlock turned mundane and all the tension he’s carried since the attack bleeds away.

“I really thought I was going to lose you, Magnus.” Alec whispers, quiet enough Magnus almost doesn’t hear.

“Never.” Magnus repeats, fumbling about for Alec’s hand, finally finding it and squeezing tightly. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll always be with you.”

“Yeah.”

“You guys are cute.” They both, turn their heads at the voice, find Clary staring at them sleepily. “Did you figure out the pain meds?”

“Yeah, though I’m pretty sure I’m going to be falling asleep soon.” Magnus answers, Clary snorts.

“Yeah, that’s pretty normal.” She says, rolling onto her side to properly face them. “When you’re well enough, we’ll get out of here and let Cat heal you fully.”

“How long is that going to take?” Magnus whines, completely unfamiliar with being hurt for longer than maybe a few hours.

“A few days, you could sign yourself out AMA, but I wouldn’t.”

“AMA?” Magnus and Alec both ask together, frowning at each other, Clary laughs.

“You guys need to get out more. AMA- against medical advice. Means you can leave the hospital before they think you should, but they aren’t responsible if you keel over and die in the carpark outside.”

“Oh, yeah, lets not do that.” Magnus says, shaking his head. “Thanks, but I’d rather not.”

“Thought you’d say that.” Clary murmurs, groaning as she stretches on the bed. “Where’s Jace?”

“He and Izzy went back to the Institute.” Alec answers, closing his eyes and sighing. “The police will be around sometime tomorrow to get a statement, so we should all get as much sleep as we can.”

“Great plan.” Magnus murmurs, snuggling into Alec and closing his eyes, falling quickly into sleep.

* * *

True to Alec’s word, the police arrive around midday, Magnus tells them everything he can remember, which isn’t much, Clary and Alec give their own version of the story, then it’s just them and the occasional nurse. Three days later, when Clary finally announces Magnus can probably get away with signing out AMA, Magnus is ready for freedom, and the healing that Cat can provide.

Clary portals them back to the loft, then portals herself to the Institute with an admonishment to take care of each other. Almost the moment she’s gone, Cat steps out of her own portal, Madzie at her side.

“Magnus!” Madzie exclaims, running to where Magnus is laid out on the couch, but Alec scoops the little girl up before she can throw herself at the former Warlock.

“Hey, kiddo, Magnus is just a little hurt at the moment, why don’t you let your mother heal him up first?” Alec asks, bopping Madzie on the nose, the girl pouts but nods her head. Cat smiles at them, then steps forward to kneel down at Magnus’ side, letting her magic wash over them both as she starts to heal him.

“Can you let Cat and I talk for a minute, Alexander?” Magnus asks, noting the tenseness in Cat’s shoulders, and the redness around her eyes.

“Uhm, sure.” Alec states, smirks at Madzie. “Come on, kiddo, let’s go for a walk!” He exclaims, carrying her out of the loft, despite her protests, just as the door’s about to close, they hear him bribe the little girl with ice-cream.

“What’s wrong, Cat?” Magnus asks, once the door has closed.

“Ragnor’s dead.” Cat states, her voice shaking.

“I know.”

“Ragnor’s gone and I nearly lost my best friend a few days ago.” Cat says, pulling away, her magic stuttering as she presses her hand to her forehead and breathes in, closing her eyes.

“Oh, Cat-“

“And even though he’s okay, he’s mortal now. So, even though he’s fine, I’m still going to have to say goodbye, if not tomorrow, then maybe in a month, maybe in a year, maybe in a decade. Sooner than I want, I’m going to have to say goodbye to him.” She explains, burying her head in her hands. “I feel so betrayed, Magnus. It’s not even your fault, but I feel so betrayed. I don’t do the mortal thing, don’t let them in, because I’ll lose them. But I let you in, you’re my best friend, I let you closer than I’ve let anyone but Ragnor, and now he’s gone, and soon you’ll be gone, too.”

“Cat.” Magnus groans as he sits up, pressing his hand against the wound on his chest but continues to sit up, so he can reach out and grab Cat’s shoulder, holding tight. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I’m just being stupid.” She murmurs, shaking her head and letting her hands fall away from her face. She sighs, and presses her hands over his wound, starting to heal him again. “I’m just… realizing that soon I’ll be the only one left. The last of our little trio.”

“I’ll always be with you, no matter what. Whether I’m here or not.” Magnus promises, breathing deeply and lying back down, ignoring the pain still blossoming from his slowly healing wound. “Ragnor’s still here, his ghost.”

“It’s not the same.” Cat tells him, and Magnus nods, because he understands. Having Ragnor’s ghost is something, but it’s not at all the same as having Ragnor himself. Cat takes a deep breath in and lets out slowly, pulling away as Magnus feels the last of the wound heal. “I’m being silly, forget I said anything.”

“Cat-“

“Don’t.” Cat says, scowling at him. “You deserve to spend the rest of your life with someone you love. I’ll be fine when you’re gone, it’ll just take a lot of time. Don’t worry about me. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“You’re my friend, Cat. I love you. If there had been another way, I would have taken it, but there wasn’t, I did what I had to.” Magnus asserts, slowly pushing himself to sit up, still feeling the aching and pulling in his chest, but knowing the wound itself is gone.


	7. The Hogwarts Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cat is Helga Hufflepuff, Ragnor is Godric Gryffindor, Magnus is Salazar Slytherin. Hogwarts is a sanctuary for Downworlders that our trio + Rowena created that will stand the test of time and protect any Downworlders within its wards from ALL harm except harm from God themself. In payment, the Quartet are bound to the earth, if they die, they will resurrect, if they are hurt, they will heal, if they lose their magic, it will slowly trickle back into them, no matter what. An unforeseen cost of the warding, is that warlocks became sterile and no one has yet been able to fix that. 
> 
> Had Valentine succeeded at the lake, anyone inside Hogwarts' wards would have carried on unharmed. 
> 
> All four of the quartet are children of Fallen Angels, but more specifically, they're the children of the Vices. Rowena is the child of Satan (Wrath), Ragnor is the son of Lucifer (Pride), Cat is the daughter of Belphegor (Sloth) Cat's all about the hard work to stick it to her old man... and Magnus is, as we know, the son of Asmodeus (Lust). All four of the are over 1000 years old.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have so many fucking ideas of where to go with this one that I can't figure out how to move forward!!!!!! This is set before Magnus goes and does his dumb deal with Lorenzo.
> 
> Rowena's fancast is Michelle Ang
> 
> Ferity means the state of being wild or savage.

“Is your father aware of our curse?” it takes everything that Magnus is not to scream in surprise at the voice that suddenly sounds all around him.

“I do not think so.” Magnus answers, putting down a spell book he hasn’t really been paying all that much attention to. “He should know, but I don’t think he’d have asked for my magic, if he did.”

“I see.” He watches her as she forms from the shadows, time has been kind to her, as it appears to have been kind to all of them. She’s as beautiful as she was the day that he met her and the shadows caress her body more than they ever have, the dark tendrils curling against her skin. She was always the most likely of them to give in to the dark places, no matter what history may say about him, Rowena was always the one who didn't quite know when to stop. “Perhaps one of us will finally turn grey, not that it will last.” She says, sinking down into the chair opposite him, he snorts at her.

“You haven’t seen Godric recently, have you?” he queries, she rolls her eyes.

“Ric has always thought grey hair made him look ‘distinguished’ or some nonsense, it’s not _real_ grey.” She points out, reaching forward to pick up the book he discarded. “I heard you’ve fallen in love, again? Every time I see you, there’s someone new.” She queries, absently turning the pages.

“Not all of us are able to refrain.” He answers, looking away from her, she’d always been the most distant, Cadwaladr had been the love of her life and his loss followed so closely by Helena’s sealed her heart from the world forever.

“Only you, dear.” She replies, sighing heavily and putting the book down. “How long do you think it will be?” 

“Months.” Magnus replies, frowning at her. “I’ll survive.”

“You don’t have a choice in the matter, none of us do.” She tells him with a bitter little smile. “I can’t regret the decision we made together all those years ago, Sal, but I do wish we’d thought it through a bit more.”

“The Nephilim were… a threat we did not know how to contend with. There were… so few of us left after all the burnings and then to suddenly have this new enemy when the mundanes were still screaming for our blood. It was… the only thing we could do.” He answers, even though he too wishes there had been another option.

“I heard a rumour…” she starts to say and he sighs, slumping in his seat.

“Ro-“

“Your lover? Is he a Shadowhunter or not, Sal?” she demands and he shrugs his shoulders, shaking his head.

“I love him.” He says, helplessly, Alec always makes him feel that way, the most helpless he’s ever been, but also the most powerful. Love is a double-edged sword and he learnt that a very long time ago. “He is no threat, you know this.”

“No threat to _us_ , perhaps. But he’s a very real threat to _you.”_ She points out, he huffs and rolls his eyes.

“That’s what love is. Don’t worry about me, I’ll survive no matter what happens, I don’t have a choice.” He reminds her, rubbing at his forehead. “Helga already spends her time fussing about me, you don’t have to start.” She frowns at him, before stiffly nodding her head.

“Fine, I won’t fuss, but if he hurts you-“

“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, you know? It is _my_ name that is still cursed to this day, while yours is revered.” He argues, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yes, how did history get such a ridiculous idea of you? You’re ruthless but not genocidal.” She answers, amused. “If anything, _I’m_ more likely to lose my cool and eradicate an entire race.”

“Yes, well, you are your father’s daughter.” Magnus tells her, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“Well, you certainly are your father’s son.” She retorts and he laughs.

“That’s never been in question, dear, you know that.” He looks up when he hears the front door open and he frowns. “Are you staying?”

“I wish to see the Nephilim who has stolen the heart of Salazar Slytherin.” He frowns at her and rolls his eyes.

“It’s Magnus Bane these days, what are you going by?” he queries, keeping track of Alec’s progress through the loft.

“Why not keep it simple? Rowena Ferity.” She replies, and he snorts.

“Right.”


	8. "If I look back, I am lost."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asmodeus is too late to stop Magnus from getting rid of his memories of Alec, the removal has some side effects Magnus didn't predict, and the darker aspects of his past, that earnt him his name, begin to resurface...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've collapsed back into my writers slump... but I really wanted to write a Magnus gets rid of his memories of Alec and sinks into his dark past type of fic. But I doubt this will ever go further... so no happy ending.
> 
> Also, I really love playing with the idea that the Trio are the most powerful warlocks because I love what they did with their lives. Ragnor lived in seclusion, hiding in paintings for lols. Cat went off to play doctor for mundanes, and Magnus was like 'Party time!!' Like just imagine if like Hercules was like 'yeah I save lives and complete godly tasks, but that's just a hobby, I'm actually a baker. :)' 
> 
> Title is, of course, from Daenerys in A Song of Ice and Fire.
> 
> Ragnor Fell (Cruel Warrior of the Gods) Magnus Bane (Powerhouse of Death) Catarina Loss (Pure Suffering)

“Why are you in my house?” Magnus questions, frowning at Lorenzo Rey, then frowning at the surroundings when he finally notices that nothing in this loft is his. “And where are all my things?”

“This isn’t your loft anymore?” Lorenzo says, though the way his voice tilts up on the last word, and the frown that pulls at his lips makes it sound more a question than a statement.

“And I gave my loft up, why?” Magnus queries, blinking and cocking his head to the side, some part of him purring in amusement at the way Lorenzo seems to shrink in on himself, swallowing nervously. It’s been a long, long time since Magnus has bothered to let his darker side come out to play.

“Uh, you gave the loft to me in a deal. Why don’t you remember this?” Lorenzo questions, seeming to find courage somewhere and becoming annoyed.

“I’m not certain. I appear to have lost some memories.” Magnus admits, before his eyes narrow dangerously. “But what I do know is that you’ve somehow replaced me as High Warlock of Brooklyn and you appear to have taken my home, as well. I also heard you were chasing after my boyfriend, whoever that might have been. Attempting to steal my life, are you, Mr Rey?” Magnus asks, raising an eyebrow. “You _do_ remember how I got my name, don’t you?”

“A deal is a deal, Magnus.” Lorenzo points out, even as he begins to back away, clearly remembering enough of how Magnus came to be known as Bane.

“Oh, of course. A warlock’s word is his bond. But you see, I don’t remember swearing anything to you, therefore the agreement, whatever it was, is null and void. Get out!” Magnus snaps, letting fire form in his palm.

“I am your High Warlock!” Lorenzo exclaims, panic seeping into his voice. Magnus had thought he’d left this part of himself behind a long time ago, but apparently not.

“No, in fact, you are High Warlock of _Brooklyn_. We are not _currently_ in Brooklyn and Brooklyn is no longer my home.” Magnus answers, funneling his magic into the wards and smirking when he feels the shift in the magic, and the ley lines note their new location in the Black Forest. “You have _no_ power of me. Get. Out.”

“You’ll regret this.”

“You say that every time we meet, Mr Rey. I have yet to regret a single encounter. Get out and take your shit with you. This is the last time I will tell you! I _could_ always do with another cat!” he threatens, smirking when the other warlock is quick to portal away, his belongings disappearing a moment later. “Right. Now to figure out what the hell is happening.”

* * *

Catching up on three months’ worth of news is exhausting. Especially since he apparently lost his mind and went and got himself involved with Shadowhunters, and a specific Shadowhunter in particular. He doesn’t really know how he could have become so stupid as all that, but Catarina would never lie to him. Which means, she’s also telling him the truth when she tells him that Ragnor is dead. The loss is sharp and painful and familiar and he wonders if he should apologise to his old friend for forgetting his death, but knowing Ragnor, the old idiot would have ruffled his hair and forgiven him anyway. Ragnor always was the more forgiving of them, even if his forgiveness came with suffering.

Without Ragnor, there is just he and Catarina left now. The children of the Princes. The strongest of the warlocks, even if they are both on the outs. In times of old, their kind would have been begging then for protection from the likes of Valentine, Jonathan, and their ilk, but no longer. If they’re so fickle they lose faith in him over one mistake that any of them would have made without even considering the risks, then they are welcome to whatever fate they meet at the rouge Shadowhunters’ hands. He is well spent of them.

Also, of course, apparently his father is once again gallivanting about. Well, as long as the old bastard keeps his machinations far away from Magnus, he can do what he likes.

It has been awhile since Magnus invented something new. Perhaps he’ll find a way to give Raphael immortality without making him a vampire, that’d make his son’s day. Magnus hums at the thought and sighs.

“Must remember to get back at the Clave for kidnapping my child. Why did I ever think the Accords were worth the paper they were written on?”

* * *

“What did you do to Magnus?” is the first words through the line when Alec sleepily answers his phone the morning after the break up.

“I’m sorry?” he mumbles, trying to parse the meaning with his still sleeping brain.

“You should be! What the hell did you do to my friend?” Cat demands, and Alec can just imagine the fire in her eyes.

“Cat, I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Alec hisses, slowly sitting up, the phone clenched tight in his hand as his face furrows. “I broke up with Magnus and haven’t seen him since!”

“You sorry son of a bitch, and I would know.” Cat snaps at him, before the line goes dead. Alec pulls the phone from his ear to blink at in stupefaction, before deciding to call Magnus.

“Sorry, the number you are trying to reach has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you think you’ve received this message in error, please check the number and dial again.” The automated message helpfully informs him.

Suddenly, Alec has a greater understanding of why Catarina might be out for his blood. He dials again and again and again and again.

No one ever answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do love Mama Lightwood, but you gotta remember that she was pretty much a nazi and Alec's 'minor' lapse into dumb means Cat's decided not to play nice. 
> 
> I also do like Lorenzo, but he also had some dick moves, tbh...


End file.
